Learning to Manage
by Kaceyyyuhhh
Summary: Gorillaz are finally getting a new manager! But, knowing Murdoc, things might not go as professionally as once thought. Follow Sam as she gets up close and personal with the band as she tries to manage them, and manage a love life on the side. From Phase 2 onward. MurdocxOCx2D. Rated T for the most part.
1. Part 1: Chapter 1

**This is my official second fanfic! Well, that I've uploaded. In lieu of the newest album dropping, I decided to finally share this story. Plus I've been slacking on my other story, so I might as well put my focus on this one.**

 **Anyway, this story starts out in Phase 2 and will continue from there. There may be *some* mistakes that I've made in some places concerning plot, but hey, this is fan fiction, not a thoroughly thought out piece of literature!**

 **Rated T but it might change. I keep having a mental back and forth with myself whether or not this is T or M.**

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Chapter 1

Murdoc had officially lost it. Not like he had it before, but this time he had officially lost it. He was yelling at 2D more than usual, he worked Noodle's poor fingers to the bone, and he even dared to criticize Russell. The success of the first album had them all in a tailspin; the pressure of living up to the initial hype was enough to drive them all mad, but especially the manager-slash-bassist. Murdoc volunteered to take on the role of manager because, simply put, he didn't trust anyone else to get the job done. But now working on the second album, the stress came to bite him in the arse.

Murdoc groaned, leaning back in his swivel chair. "Fucking 'ell! You better get this fucking chorus right, you fucking face-ache, or I'll come in there and wring your limp pencil neck out!" he yelled into the intercom so that 2D could hear him from inside the recording booth.

"I-I thought I did it right this time! I-It sounded pretty okay from in here…" 2D stammered.

" _Okay? Okay?! Okay_ music doesn't pay the bills, you twat! You don't stop until it's perfect!" Murdoc screeched, giving 2D a murderous look.

"B-But we've been doin' this for 3 hours! An' it's just the chorus! Don't you think we should move on to guitar?" 2D complained.

"We move on when I say we move on! We'll keep doing it until your voice gives out and you puke out your own voice box! And then I'll rip your throat out for giving up!" Murdoc pressed some buttons and the track started again, signaling for 2D to start singing again.

Russell twirled his drumstick in his hand as he sat on the lounge couch on the other side of the studio. "Man, Murdoc has been nothing but wound up since we started working on the new music. It's like he never stops screaming."

Noodle, who was sitting on the floor practicing the chords to the new song over and over again, nodded in agreement. "Hai, too high strung."

"I AM NOT HIGH STRUNG!" Murdoc boomed, over hearing the two behind him.

"Man, Muds, you need to take it easy," Russell said, earning a nod from Noodle. "When's the last time you actually slept?"

Murdoc, without turning around to face his drummer, scoffed. "Sleep doesn't matter when you're a famous Rockstar."

"Maybe you needa focus on one job right now," Russell suggested.

"Last time I checked I was the leader of this band, _not you!_ I have everything under control," Murdoc muttered under his breath, trying to listen to what 2D was singing in the headphones on his ears. As soon as 2D hit the wrong note, Murdoc cringed and growled deep in the back of his throat, slowly rising from his seat. "What did I say, you sorry excuse for a—!" He rose from his chair and skulked to the booth's door.

2D frantically pulled his hair and shrank back as Murdoc stepped toward him with outstretched arms, all while shrinking. "No, no, no!"

As Murdoc tried to strangle his defenseless singer, Russell pulled out his laptop and began to type.

Noodle looked at him inquisitively. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Muds is gonna go even crazier if he keeps going on like this. I'm calling in for some backup." Once he was done typing, he turned the laptop around so that Noodle could see what he was doing.

Reading what Russell had typed, a wide grin spread across her face. "Nice!"

Sam burst into the small pub, a bright smile gracing her face. She quickly went over to the bar and took a seat. "I'll take a bottle of your finest champagne!" she exclaimed to the single bartender.

The tattooed barman turned to her and grinned. "Coming right up. What's the fine occasion?"

Sam set her graduation cap on the bar top and shimmied out of her robe. "It's not everyday someone graduates from college magna cum laude with a master's degree in business."

"I guess that does call for celebration," the man said cheekily, pulling a bottle of champagne from the chiller. "You know, Sam, if I didn't know you I'd never peg you for the business type. You're more 'artsy'."

"Way to stereotype, Colin! I'm erasing labels like that one tattoo at a time," she retorted, pulling the hem of her tight black dress down the side of her tattooed thigh to be more covered. Probably not the most appropriate dress for a graduation, but she figured no one could see it under her robe anyway so she could just dress for going out later.

Sam, age twenty-three, her body already covered in tattoos. Some colorful and some black and white. Most people could recognize her by her long, curly black hair with bangs that covered most of her dark chocolate eyes, but it was the tattoo of three roses side by side on her neck that was what caught most people's eye.

"So, how do you think employers are going to react to you?" Colin asked, handing over a glass of champagne.

Sam just smirked and shrugged. "I don't want to be someone's employee. I'm going to be the boss."

Colin laughed. "You sure do have big dreams, kid."

"You gotta shoot for the stars, Colin!" Sam said with a smile, drinking her champagne. "I want to work with like-minded people. People with big dreams and ambitions who know that what you look like doesn't dictate the amount of knowledge you hold. My tattoos and piercings don't hold me back from doing a job that I love to do. You should know that."

Colin nodded in agreement. "Amen, sister. I wish had followed my dreams instead of just settling for bartender. I just thought I couldn't be hired. You are truly an inspiration, Sam."

Sam blushed and held up her glass. "To dreams," she toasted, Colin holding up the bottle and clinking them both together.

Setting the bottle down, Colin asked, "So, what are your celebration plans for tonight?"

Sam let out a sigh, trying to navigate her plans in her head. "After this I have to swing by the florist, then I'm going to the cemetery for a while," she said, lowering her gaze to the bar top.

"Your parents would be so proud of you," Colin said, trying to cheer her up.

Sam just let out a bittersweet chuckle and downed the rest of her glass. While Colin filled her glass again, she told him more. "After that I'm heading to Laura's to get ready for the night and then we're going to meet Tanya on sixth street to get _wasted_."

"Sounds like heaven!" Colin said, taking a stool from the back of the bar area and pulling it up in front of Sam. "I'm working a double shift. Don't get off until two, and I am the one that opened the damn place! I gotta get a new job."

Sam placed a comforting tattooed hand on Colin's. "Well the great thing about living in the city is that there's not any shortage of bartending jobs here. Just get a job on sixth street."

"Maybe," Colin said with not much enthusiasm. Sam knew Colin loved this bar. It was his uncle's bar before he moved away. Even though Colin didn't get to take over management, he still had a duty to his uncle to stay and make sure the bar was going in the right direction.

Once she was done with the bottle of champagne all by herself, and still not a buzz in sight, Sam made her way to the florist, where she bought her mother's favorite flowers—tiger lilies.

Crunching through the dead grass the bright Texas sun showed no mercy to, Sam found the big headstone and stood there before it. The headstone read " _ANTONIO DELAROSA BELOVED HUSBAND AND FATHER"_ on the left side and " _ESMERELDA DELAROSA BELOVED WIFE AND MOTHER"_ on the right. Beneath the names it read _"La paz les dejo, Mi paz les doy; no se la doy a ustedes como el mundo la da. No se turbe su corazón ni tenga miedo."_ She set the bouquet of flowers down on the ground as she kneeled to touch the headstone.

" _Hola, mama, papa,"_ Sam said under her breath. She lifted her graduation cap to her chest, as if showing the headstone. " _Yo me gradue',"_ she said, tears pricking on the sides of her eyes. Letting the cap down, she kissed her index and middle fingers and pressed it to the headstone. " _Los quiero mucho_."

Standing up, brushing the dead blades of grass from her bottom and wiping the tears from her face, she held her cap to her chest and closed her eyes. "I wish ya'll were here," she said in a low voice. Turning back to her car parked a few yards away on the curb, she wobbled back to it in her wedge heels, trying to keep steady underneath the unleveled earth below.

"Sam, babe, come in!" Laura exclaimed as soon as she opened the door of her apartment and saw Sam standing there. "Can you believe we are two-time graduates? I mean once was a miracle for me, but twice? _Hallelujah_!"

Sam stepped inside the small studio apartment, kicking off her wedges and making herself comfortable. "It felt like a lifetime," she said, taking a seat on the futon. "Time to start our careers, find a man, get married, and have babies," she said flatly.

As Sam made herself at home, Laura went back to fixing her makeup in the bathroom. "Find a man, maybe. Hell, I might find one tonight if I'm lucky! But marriage? _Children_? Ugh, I'd rather break both of my legs twice," she said in disgust.

Sam chuckled, kicking her legs up onto the futon and leaning back to lie down. "I mean, I wouldn't mind getting married, but I don't think I could squeeze an entire baby out. I mean, I know it's possible, obvs, but, like, gross."

"I know, right? If I wanted to take care of something, I would just get a dog. They're cuter, smarter, and won't grow up to resent me."

Sam giggled to herself lightly at her friend's frankness. "Are we meeting Tanya at the club or is she coming here?"

Laura stepped out into the common area, all made up and large barrel curlers wrapped in her long blonde hair. "She said she was going to meet us there with her boyfriend. Looks like it's going to be mostly you and me tonight."

Sam sat up, giving Laura a smirk. "Okay but just so you know I'm trying to get laid tonight."

Laura snatched up a pillow from her bed that sat behind the futon and tossed it at her friend's head. "When are you not trying to get laid?" Laura joked. "That actually works out because I haven't gotten any since before midterms. Mama needs to let off some steam!"

"Tonight's mission: find someone, get laid, try not to get alcohol poisoning," Sam said, moving her hand like the was checking off a list in the air. "I'm just ready to finally let loose. _"_

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 **And there you have it! The first chapter! Please leave a comment on what you thought, because I am dying to know!**


	2. Part 1: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sam _really_ let loose. Groaning, Sam rolled over in bed, covered in blankets and sweat. Feeling dizzy and sick, she failed to realize just how close to the edge of her bed she was, for when she rolled over she toppled to the hard floor onto her face. She groaned louder, clenching her teeth as her head banged and her stomach churned from the movement. Feeling the bile creep up her esophagus, she quickly jumped to her feet and made a beeline to the bathroom.

Throwing open the door, she fell to her knees in front of the porcelain thrown, clutching the sides, as she expelled the toxins from her stomach. Five minutes later, once she was done dry heaving, Sam brushed her teeth and washed the leftover makeup from last night off her face. Looking into the mirror, she saw how much of a mess she was. And looking down and around she noticed how much more of a mess her bathroom was. Bottles of beauty products that were once sitting neatly atop of the countertop were now toppled over and onto the floor. She would have to clean that later.

Sam left the bathroom, padding her way into her bedroom to lie back down in her bed. But Sam wasn't too surprised to see that her bed was not empty. A blonde, short haired woman laid topless on the other side of the bed. She was sound asleep, passed out and wouldn't wake to even the loudest of noises.

Deciding to leave that burden unattended for the moment, Sam made her way to the kitchen. She needed food in her to soak up all the alcohol in her system. Good thing she was fully stocked with a freezer full of frozen pizzas. She popped one in the oven, and while she was waiting she opened her laptop that sat on the kitchen counter and turned it on. She wanted to get started on the job hunt as soon as possible. Maybe job hunting while still having alcohol in your system wasn't the best way of doing it, but Sam was determined. Not knowing where to start first, she tried Craigslist.

The home page popped up and, still being slightly inebriated, Sam forgot to choose her location, just going straight to the jobs tab. As she scrolled, she heard footsteps make their way from the bedroom into the kitchen. It was Sam's blonde babe from that night, and from the looks of it she was waiting for round two.

Leaning in the doorway, the girl smirked seductively, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. "Hey, what's cooking good looking?"

Sam looked up from her laptop screen and smiled at the half-naked stranger in her kitchen. "This is gonna sound really shitty of me, but what's your name again?" she asked with a coy smile.

The blonde chuckled and stepped closer to her. "Ally," she replied. "I guess it wouldn't be so bad to ask for yours now too."

Sam went back to looking at her laptop, clicking a link to a managerial position. "It's Sam. Don't you just hate the morning after awkwardness?"

Ally walked up behind Sam, wrapping her arms around her torso and placing her chin on Sam's shoulder. "I suppose it could be worse. I could be some gross looking slob hanging all over you. Or at least I hope I'm not."

Sam twisted her attention away from the job ad and looked back over her shoulder at the other woman. "Trust me, you're not," she said with a flirtatious wink. A shiver went down her spine as her new lover placed kisses along her neck. Sam purred with pleasure at the touch, only encouraging her partner further.

"How about I give you another graduation present?" Said Ally, nipping at Sam's ear.

"I wouldn't object," Sam replied coolly. Suddenly she was picked up by the sides and placed onto the counter top, her mouth being captured by the blonde's.

After their round two of fun, Sam had successfully burned the pizza to a crisp. Feeling sexually satisfied, she sought out to satisfy her hunger. Saying goodbye to her lover at the door and giving empty promises to call her, Sam shut the door behind Ally and quickly called for Chinese delivery.

Taking her laptop to the couch and plopping down, she began typing a response to the job position:

 **Dear Mr. Hobbs,**

 **I am inquiring about the managerial position you posted on craigslist. I have attached my resume for you to look over. I will be looking forward to your response.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Samantha Delarosa**

Leaving her email open and pushing her laptop aside, she turned on the TV and waited for her food to arrive. About twenty minutes later, Sam was slurping on her lo mein and watching trashy reality TV when the familiar ding of a new email rang from her laptop. Surprised, Sam set her takeout aside and checked her email. It was a response to the job offer. It read:

 **Dear Samantha,**

 **After looking over your resume, I have decided that you fit our criteria for a new manager. I will send you a call for more details on the job soon.**

 **Thank you,**

 **R. Hobbs**

Sam's eyes lit up. She didn't think she would find a real world job so quickly. _They must be really desperate for a new manager_ , she thought, taking up her noodles again and poking them with her chopsticks. She was about to take a bite of a sliced carrot when a thought popped into her mind. _Wait…what am I managing exactly?_ Sam palmed her forehead at her carelessness. She was so preoccupied with seeing a managerial position that she forgot to inquire about what the managerial position was even for. _Probably some start up business that just opened its first store._ She reasoned to herself, crunching down on the slice of carrot still pinched between her chopsticks. "Should be a piece of cake," she told herself.

Sam jumped in her seat when suddenly the phone rang out. Putting a hand on her chest, trying to calm her racing heart from the startle, she quickly stood and lunged for the phone hanging on the wall in her kitchen. Composing herself, she answered, "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Samantha Delarosa?" A gruff man's voice answered.

Sam took a seat on one of the barstools at her kitchen counter. "This is she," she replied in her most professional voice.

"Hi Samantha, this is Russell Hobbs calling about the managerial position," the man said.

"Oh, yes! I completely forgot to ask this, but—what company is this position for?" she asked politely.

"Oh, this position isn't for a company," he said, leaving Sam confused.

Sam raised an arched brow. "Then who will I be working for, if you don't mind me asking?"

"A band," was all he said.

Sam was taken back. She had no prior experience with managing bands, let alone any experience with the music industry at all. Sure, her last boyfriend was the guitar player for a local band, but they never got as far as playing a few gigs a week at a grungy old bar in downtown Austin. "Oh, Mr. Hobbs, there must be a mistake, I—"

"I've purchased you a ticket for a flight tomorrow at seven AM from your location to Essex, England—"

Sam started to panic at his words. _England?!_ "Wait a second, did you just say England? Did I miss something?" Sam took the phone with her and opened her laptop, switching tabs over to the craigslist ad. At the top of the page, there it was, clearly spelled out for her: International listings. _FUCK FUCK FUCK_ , she screamed in her head, trying to think of a way to back out of the position as professionally as possible.

"I hope that's not a problem. I assumed you knew that since you responded to the ad."

 _Shit,_ she cursed to herself. She couldn't admit to an employer that she was so careless as to not even see that she had clicked the international classifieds! "N-No that's not a problem at all!"

"Anyway…when you arrive I'll have a driver take you from the airport to the studio where I will interview you and you'll meet the band to see if you're a good fit. I look forward to meeting you, Ms. Delarosa," Mr. Hobbs said, concluding the call.

"I look forward to it as well!" Sam said, feigning a chipper tone. "Thank you very much, Mr. Hobbs." She hung up the phone, and slumped against the wall. "What am I going to do?" she whispered to herself as she slid down the wall, her bottom hitting the floor. "I can't just move to England… _if_ I even get the job." But then Sam straightened up a bit, leaning against the wall. "Why can't I just move to England?" she said to herself, bringing her knees to her chest. "I'm young, I have nothing tying me down. Hell, I don't even have a pet to tie me down!" She put her hands on her knees and pushed herself to standing. "There is absolutely nothing stopping me from moving to England!" Sam pushed her bangs back with her fingers. " _If_ I get this job."

After Russell hung up the phone, he turned to Noodle, who was watching and listening to him the entire time. "Didn't I sound all professional and shit?" he said with a proud smirk on his face.

Noodle smiled and have him a thumbs up. "Hai!" she agreed.

Russell and Noodle parted as Russell left to make the arrangements for the prospective manager.

Sam was up bright and early for her seven AM flight, looking fresh faced and business ready. She put all of her long black hair in a big bun on top of her head, her bangs still falling straight down into her eyes. Wearing a form fitting black pencil skirt, emerald green peplum blouse, black opaque tights, shiny black Mary Jane heels, and a short black blazer that cinched at her waist with a single button.

Sam endured her nonstop eight hour flight by reading, listening to music, and going over basic interview question responses in her head. Not once did she close her eyes and drift off to sleep. She had never been abroad before. She had been to Mexico several times with her parents to visit her abuelos, but Mexico was right next door and they never went by plane. In fact, Sam had never flew on a plane a day in her life. Looking out of the window next to her, Sam wondered how she could've lived her life without seeing that kind of view. The earth beneath her looked so beautiful, she never wanted to come back down. But as soon as the plane landed all she wanted to do was kiss the sweet ground under her feet. Being trapped for eight hours in a flying steel bird was enough to make the most sane person crazy. Or at least make someone's joints really stiff.

Sam's heels clicked against the glossy airport floor as she made her way to luggage claim on the first floor. British accents filled the air around her, giving her culture shock already. Her suitcase rolled behind her as she made her way to the lobby where many drivers help up signs with names on it. She skimmed the area, searching for her name. Finally she came upon a white sign with **DE LA ROSA, S.** written in sloppy lettering and held by a scrawny man in his mid to late twenties with blue hair and holes for eyes. He wore a suit that looked too small for him, his ankles showing from the bottom of his pants and his sleeves hardly reaching his wrists. The driver's cap he wore on his head seemed like the only thing that was too big for him.

Sam walked up to the man, stifling a chuckle at the way her name was spelled. "My name is Delarosa, not DE-LA-ROSA," she said.

The driver turned the sign around to look at himself. "Oh," he realized. He gave a bashful grin, showing off his missing front teeth. "Sorry 'bout that, miss!"

Sam couldn't help but smile at his squeaky accent. "It's no big deal. At least the first initial of my name is right," she said as they started walking towards the exit.

"Can I take your bag?" the driver asked, holding out his hand.

Sam nodded, handing over the luggage handle and said, "Thank you." They walked up to the sleek black town car that was parked on the curb in front of the airport. The driver opened the backseat door for Sam before shoving her suitcase in the trunk and making his way to the driver's seat.

While she sat there, Sam applied lip gloss in a small compact mirror she kept in her purse. She puckered her now glossy, plump lips in the small mirror, pulling it away from her to inspect her whole face. She had removed her nose ring and tongue piercing to seem more professional and respectable. Most of her tattoos were covered, except for the three scarlet roses that covered her neck and some of her chest piece that couldn't be covered by the collar of her blouse. She stood by her principle that people should get jobs no matter what modifications they had to their own bodies, but she also wanted to be hired. So, she decided to cover up for the interview.

Sam snapped the compact mirror closed and looked out of the window. The car was heading towards a hill surrounded by a mass of low hanging gray clouds. If she squinted her eyes she could make out a building just at the peak of the hill. To her apprehension, she was sure that's where her driver was taking her. She waited awhile in silence, waiting to see if the car would suddenly take a turn somewhere. But to her dismay, the car made a beeline straight to the building at the top of the gloomy looking hill.

They pulled up to a gate that eerily opened without any help from a person or machine. As they rode through what seemed like a cemetery, headstones and mausoleums passing, chilling Sam to the bone, she decided to speak up. "Um," she hesitated as she watched a crow peck at the cemetery ground. "Where are we?" she asked wearily.

"Kong Studios!" he replied in his Crawley accent. "'S a lil creepy, isn't it?"

Sam stifled a nervous laugh. "Could be worse, I suppose. I mean, I could be working here if everything goes well."

The car came to a stop at the entrance of the building. The blue haired man turned in his seat, black holes staring back into her brown eyes. "You're the first one to be interviewed. I'm sure you'll do great!"

Sam was comforted by his words of encouragement. She found herself staring into his eyes, or what would be eyes, and quickly tried to redeem herself. "Well, I'd better go. It's always good to be a little early for an interview."

The driver suddenly jumped in his seat, remembering that he was supposed to open the door for her. "Oh, sorry 'bout that!" he exclaimed, jumping out of the car and throwing open the door.

Sam stepped out of the town car, feeling the cold wind hit her like a brick.

"I'll keep your luggage safe 'til you're finished," the driver said with a friendly smile.

Sam couldn't help but smile back. "Thank you," she said. Pulling out her wallet, she retrieved some money she had exchanged for pounds and handed the driver a five pound note. "I don't know if you take tips, but here," she set the paper money in his hand and went on her way to the main entrance, her heels crunching on the gravel.

2D looked down at the money she had handed him with an eyebrow raised. Shrugging, he crumpled the money in his hand and shoved it in his pocket.

Sam rang the doorbell, a shrill ring calling out for someone inside to open the door. The screen on the side of the door lit up, and a dark face with two luminous eyes appeared.

"Oh!" Was all the face said before the screen went blank again. There was a sound of unlocking bolts on the door before suddenly it creaked open, revealing the person on the screen in the flesh. "Come on in," was the friendly response of the very large man.

Sam stepped in, taking in the gray and gloomy surroundings of the inside of the building. The walls had cracks in them, the floor had a thin coating of dust, and she didn't want to know what that black stuff was growing on the ceiling. As a grimace began creeping up on her face, the man turned to her with a grin.

"I'm Russell Hobbs. You must be Samantha," he said in a gruff voice. The very large and rotund man towered over her slight figure. Sam noticed for the first time that this person was American like her and made her feel a little more at ease.

Sam shook his massive hand and gave a pleasant smile. "It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Hobbs," she said in her most professional voice.

"Just call me, Russell," he said, turning his giant back to her. "Follow me to the studio, that's where we'll start the interview."

Stepping into the gray and damp studio, Sam felt constantly on edge. There was something very dark and foreboding about the whole place, she didn't understand how anyone could spend their time in a place like this.

They sat in a couple of chairs in the middle of the room, Russell pulling out a clipboard with interview questions on it and a pen. He surveyed Sam's resume again, making sure he knew everything. "So," he began, trying to make himself sound like he knew what he was talking about. "Tell me about yourself, Samantha."

Sam cleared her throat. "Well, I was born and raised in Austin, Texas. I graduated from University of Texas with a Master's of Business Administration magna cum laude, and interned at some of the toughest and most successful companies in Texas, which I have listed in my resume. I do believe I could be an asset to you and your team."

Russell stroked his chin to make it seem as though he was listening intently. "Cool, so you don't have any experience in the music industry?"

Sam bit her lip. It was the one thing she felt unsure of. Russell knew she didn't have experience in this particular field, yet he still chose to interview her anyway. What was she supposed to say to make her the right candidate when she shouldn't even be in the running in the first place? She took a deep breath and began to explain herself. "I do not, but I do believe that my lack of experience would push me to rise to the occasion and to learn what I need to in order to do my job. I promise that if I'm hired, you won't know the difference between me and someone who has been a band manager for their whole life. I'm driven, persistent, organized, and punctual. No lack of experience would keep me from doing a splendid job."

Russell was pleasantly surprised by Sam's answer. Everything she said convinced him that she was the right person for the job, no matter her lack of experience. He just had one more question to ask her that would seal the deal. "Are you superstitious?"

The question threw her back. Sam hadn't expected a question like that, nor did she know how to respond correctly. "Well…my family is catholic, so superstition kind of runs in my veins. What do you mean?"

"Are you afraid of ghosts?" Russell clarified.

Sam thought back to the cemetery just outside, within the gates of the building. "Uh, does this have to do with that cemetery outside? Because I really don't mind. I think it's kind of cool, honestly."

Russell decided not to elaborate on his _ordeal_ with ghosts. "How close to your religion are you?" he asked wearily.

Sam raised a hidden eyebrow underneath her bangs. "I'm sorry, are you allowed to ask about my religion? I mean, you know the laws of not hiring based on religion in the U.S. but I have no clue what the deal is here in England."

Russell chuckled to himself. "Sorry, we have a Satanist in the band, so I just want to make sure you're not gonna flip shit when you meet him."

Sam just looked at him with a questioning look. "A Satanist? I can't say I've ever met one, but I can assure you it won't bother me. I'm really not religious at all, it was more my parents, but I do carry around a rosary with me sometimes just to keep a piece of them with me," she pulled out the long beaded chain from her jacket pocket and showed him.

Russell nodded and wrote something down on the pad. "Perfect," he said before straightening his papers and setting them aside. He gave her a blank look, round white eyes staring at her, when finally he said, "When can you start?"

Sam's eyes lit up and her butt lifted off the chair to jump for joy, but she contained herself. Instead, she gave a bright smile and gave her response. "Well, I would like to get settled in a new place here, get all of my stuff sent overseas before I can start."

"You'll be living here," Russell said matter-of-factly. "Actually, 2D has already put your luggage in your permanent room."

Sam was taken back. "Wait, who is 2D?" she asked with apprehension.

"He's the singer of the band. He was also your driver," Russell said.

Sam mentally slapped herself. She had tipped the singer of the band that was hiring her! Her cheeks didn't have time to light up in embarrassment when another question came to mind. "You had a room ready for me before you even interviewed me?" she questioned.

Russell shrugged with a cheeky grin. "You were the only one who responded to the ad. I just assumed you'd take the job."

Sam was left speechless. She had gone through all the stress of preparing answers for interview questions that weren't even asked, she had perfectly coordinated an outfit that covered almost all of her tattoos and that still looked good on her, and she woke up super early. All to be the only candidate for the job. "I guess I _have_ to take the job, huh?"

Russell nodded with a grin on his face. "Welcome to Kong, Samantha! Noodle can show you to your room. We're gonna all have dinner together at seven to welcome the newest member of the crew."

With a smile, Sam shook his huge hand again and said, "Call me Sam."


	3. Part 1: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sam followed the young girl who had introduced herself as Noodle, the guitarist of the band, down a long dim hallway. Different paintings and pictures hung on the walls, all dreary and gothic in nature. In all, Kong Studios gave Sam the heebie-jeebies. But Sam thought of herself as a very adaptable person. Give her a roof over her head, food, and income, and she was set.

"Here is your room," the young Japanese girl said in a heavy accent. "I hope you like it."

Sam turned the knob and stepped in. For such a large and foreboding presence Kong had, the room Sam was given was very plain and ordinary. A large enough queen size bed neatly made up, a nightstand next to it with a lamp on top, a dresser with four drawers on the opposite wall, a large walk-in closet, and a small, prison-like window on the far opposite wall. The light from the lamp spilled a warm light into the room and cancelled out the gray darkness coming from the window.

"It…should be perfect once I get my stuff in," Sam said, trying to not sound ungrateful. "Should take about a week or so."

"2D put your luggage in here. Should be in your closet," said Noodle. "You can look around more if you want until dinner. This place is _huge_."

Sam pulled her suitcase out of the large closet. "I may later. Right now I might just put some clothes away and call a few people to have them send my things." Once she lugged out the heavy suitcase, she gave Noodle a friendly smile. "We should hang out sometime, though. You know, when we're not busy working. We are the only two girls in this place, after all."

"I'm sure Murdoc brings more girls in here," Noodle said with a giggle. "But yes, I would like that."

Sam raised an eyebrow and folded her arms in front of her chest. "Who is that?" she asked.

"Oh, Murdoc? He plays bass. He formed the band and was running it until we hired you," she said, lacking interest.

"So he was in charge before? Shouldn't I meet him?"

"I wouldn't be too eager to meet him, if I were you," Noodle said, walking towards the door. "I'm going to go now, leave you alone. I must practice."

"Oh, of course, thank you for showing me to my room," Sam said. As soon as Noodle left the room, Sam whipped out her cell phone and started dialing.

 _"Hello?"_ the female voice rang out on the other line of the phone.

"LAURA!" Sam exclaimed, almost deafening the girl she was talking to. "Hold on, let me get Colin on three-way!" Sam put Laura on hold as she dialed the number to the bar Colin worked for.

 _"Hello, this is McGregor's Pub. What's up?"_

"COLIN!" Sam exclaimed at the same shrill volume as before. "I have Laura on the other line, hold on!" She pushed a button and suddenly all three of them could hear each other. "Guys, you would never believe what happened to me today," she said, sitting on her new bed.

" _Sam, what did I tell you about calling here for personal reasons?"_ Colin said, ducking behind the bar so that none of the patrons saw him talking. All three of the patrons.

 _"Oh my god, Colin, it's not like you're busy anyway. Spill the beans, Sam! What's up?"_ Laura said, very interested about what her best friend had to say.

"I got a job!" Sam exclaimed again, giddily falling back onto the flat pillows.

 _"That's great!"_ Laura said in an encouraging voice. _"Where did you get hired?"_

"That's the thing…" Sam said, hesitating a little and biting her bottom lip.

 _"You didn't get involved in the cartel, did you?"_ Colin said, peeking around to make sure the customers hadn't noticed his absence. They hadn't.

 _"That's a little racist, Colin,"_ Laura chastised him.

Sam rolled her eyes at their comments. "No, guys. I got a job as a…band manager."

 _"What?"_ The other two said in unison.

"I know it's very random, but—"

 _"How the hell did you manage to do that?"_ Laura asked doubtfully, twirling a lock of golden blonde hair around her finger.

 _"You never told us you wanted to work in the music industry,"_ Colin said, feeling a little offended that his best friend wouldn't tell him something like that.

"Look guys, this job came out of left field. It just kind of happened," Sam said with a shrug.

 _"What band is it? Are they just some nobodies?"_ Laura asked.

"Their name sounds very familiar, but honestly I don't have a clue."

 _"Are they Austin based? I might know them,"_ Colin said.

"That's another thing…" Sam paused, hesitant about how her friends would react to her move abroad. "The job is in England."

 _"What?!"_ they both said again together.

Before the two could go off on a tangent about how she couldn't leave them and that they would miss her too much, Sam interjected. "Look, I've lived in Texas all my life. I have no ties there, really, other than you guys. I'm not married, I have no kids, and now I have a job here. It's like…I don't know, like fate or something? Before you guys tell me that I shouldn't do it, I've already made up my mind that I'm staying." Sam paused, waiting for her friends to respond.

After a few seconds of silence, Colin spoke up. _"I'm proud of you, Sam,"_ he said in a sad voice. _"I can't say I'm not gonna miss the hell out of you, but I'm so proud of you."_

 _"Yeah, Sammy,"_ Laura joined in. _"You just graduated grad school and you already have a professional job in your field and you got out of Texas. Do you know how long I've been trying to get out of this place? Since the day I was born. I just want to let you know I'm going to live vicariously through you."_

Sam chuckled light-heartedly at her friends' encouraging words. "Thanks, you guys. I'm going to miss ya'll, but I promise to call all the time and text every day. I'll come visit and you guys can come visit me. This place is huge, we have plenty of room!"

 _"Are there any hot guys in the band?"_ Laura asked.

"Um, the singer is kind of cute. There's one guy I haven't met yet, so I can't be certain."

 _"That's good enough for me. I can't wait to visit you now!"_ Laura exclaimed excitedly.

"Well, guys, I gotta go. I'm going to unpack my clothes and try to make myself at home," Sam said, feeling a longing to want to talk to her friends more. She still wanted to wander around the building and get herself familiar with her surroundings. The place was huge and it was going to take some time to get used to.

 _"Good luck, Sammy! We miss you already!"_ Laura said in a sing-song voice.

 _"Don't forget about us,"_ Colin said with a tinge of sadness.

"I could never forget my best friends. Love you guys, bye!"

 _"Love you, bye!"_ Colin and Laura said together before all three of them hung up.

Sam sat up, staring at her phone, longing to be back in Texas, in her own apartment and ordering pizza with Laura on her couch as they watched trashy reality television shows. A new chapter of her life was beginning, and as much as she wanted to cling on to the familiarity of the life she had in college, the safety and warmth of a familiar city in a familiar state of a familiar country, she had to move on. She had moved on when her parents died, and she had to move on now.

After calling the moving company and asking her apartment to lend an extra pair of keys to Colin so he could let them in, Sam decided that she should venture out of her new room and get to know her new home. She stripped her stuffy professional clothing and traded it for a pair of distressed jeans, a red crop top, and black sneakers. She let her hair down from the tight bun on top of her head, her sleek black hair falling down her back.

Slipping out into the corridor, she quietly shut her door and padded lightly down the hall. She examined the walls and floor beneath her as she crept down the path. The walls were a dreary dark gray and the many photos and paintings were so drab and melancholy. _I wonder if they'd mind me brightening this place up a bit,_ she thought as she stepped lightly. _This place needs a serious makeover._

Sam stopped in her tracks when she heard the opening of a door to the left just up ahead. The only black door she had seen down this hallway opened up and an olive-tinted man with a black mop-top haircut stepped out. He wore a faded black long-sleeve shirt, and brown leather boots. When he turned towards her to leave, he was surprised to see an unfamiliar face.

He took a step back, hand on his door knob, ready to escape this stranger quickly. "Who the bloody hell are you?" he demanded. He hoped to Satan that this chick wasn't a crazed stalker fan. He's had a few of those, but most never get this close. They usually make it as far as the cemetery then get too creeped out and leave.

Sam pushed her hair behind her ear, trying to remember the name Russell and Noodle gave her that belonged to the bassist she had yet to meet. "You must be…Melvin?" she said, unsure if the name she gave was correct.

Murdoc's anger rose. "The name's Murdoc, chicky, and who the bloody hell are you?!" he asked again, his voice rising in annoyance.

Sam's cheeks flared up from her mistake. "I'm very sorry, _Murdoc_ ," she corrected herself. "I'm the new manager you hired." She held out her hand for him to shake with a pearly white smile.

Murdoc just glared at her tanned hand, then back at her, his stare intense. "I didn't hire a bloody manager," he growled.

Sam reeled her hand in, putting it in her pocket. "Russell interviewed me," she explained. It suddenly came to her that Murdoc had no clue. "Did you not know your band members were looking for a manager?" she asked.

"I'll kill those bloody morons! I'll kill 'em for going behind my back!" He exclaimed, starting to march down the hall to find his bandmates.

Sam, fearing for the job she hadn't even started, lunged for the bassist, grabbing his arm. "I'm just here to be of help! I'm sure it must be tiresome to do everything yourself as well as work on music. I'm here to take some of the workload off of ya'll."

Murdoc raised an eyebrow. "Where the hell are you from, Yankee?" He inquired in a calmer tone.

Sam was taken back by the nickname he had given her. "Texas," she replied.

Murdoc scoffed, stepping closer to her. "You don't look like a hick," he said, examining her up close. She was a nice little specimen, he thought, his eyes glazing over her figure. Her bronzed skin, a curvaceous silhouette, long shiny hair, and, what were those, double D's? _Not a bad deal,_ Murdoc thought, trying not to drool over the thought of a late night visit from his new employee. Yes, he could give her a chance.

"Gee, thanks," Sam said sarcastically. She gave the man a look over. He was skinny, no muscles, not that tall, that sickly green skin made her skin crawl, and that hair was _so_ outdated. And _yet_ she was oddly attracted to him. He was nothing like the guys she dated back at home. She was used to long haired hipsters with facial hair, tattoos, and washboard abs. Guys like Colin. But Murdoc, he was different—foreign. And it intrigued Sam.

Suddenly she could feel his eyes on her. Reeling her gaze from his body to his eyes, she noticed his line of sight was straight at her chest. She furrowed her brows. It wasn't uncommon for this kind of thing to happen. She was a busty girl; most people's gaze fell onto her a _ssets_ at first encounter. She always had to direct their attention back to her face, first politely and then with a swift kick to the shin. She reached out and waved a hand in front of Murdoc's eyes. "Eyes up _here."_

He chuckled slyly. "Ah, sorry 'bout that, pet. Sometimes my eyes…wander, heh-heh" he said.

Sam stifled a forced laugh. "Yeah, I know how you feel. Sometimes my foot wanders into creepy old guys' assholes," she said with a smirk.

Murdoc grinned a sharp toothed grin. "Heh-heh, aren't you a spicy senorita?"

Sam curled a lip up in disgust. "Well, it was nice meeting you but I have to go…do something," she lied, turning to walk away.

"Aye," Murdoc called out to her.

She turned around, her hair whipping around with her.

"If you ever need anything, I mean _anything_ , don't hesitate to come knock on ol' Muds' door," he said with a cheeky grin.

She walked up to him again, smiling politely, and said, "And if _you_ need anything, I mean _anything_ , don't ever knock on my door. Ever." Smile dropping, she rolled her eyes in disgust, walking away and turning a corner, out of Murdoc's sight.

He scratched his chin with a sharp toothed grin. "I do like a challenge," he said to himself, letting out a dark chuckle.

Sam continued down the hall until she found an elevator. As she pressed the button and waited for the doors to open, she thought to herself, putting her hands in her tight pockets. _Disgusting old man,_ she thought. _I mean, he's gotta be, like, a decade older than me. I would never do anything with someone that old, I mean c'mon. And that hair! Who does he think he is? Ringo Starr? Ugh, and his skin. He practically looks green. He can't be well._ Sam let herself onto the elevator as soon as the doors opened. She glanced at the directory inside and pressed the button that led to the top floor. _The only way I'd ever do anything with him is if he were the last person on this planet._

Sam looked down and furrowed her brow. _Wait, what the hell am I thinking? I'm not sleeping with someone I work for! What is wrong with me?_ She shook her head, trying to get the thought out of her mind.

The elevator doors opened to the dark and dank hallway of the very top floor of Kong Studio. Sam stepped out, looking around at what seemed like a totally different place. She would've thought she were in a totally different building if she were led there blindfolded. The hallway looked like one of a deserted office building—water stains on the ceiling and carpet, wallpaper peeling back and revealing the cement behind it, loose papers scattered here and there on the floor, and the sound of water dripping somewhere on that floor echoed throughout. It was cold and dark, save for the one lightbulb hanging by a wire in the middle of the hallway that buzzed and flickered every few seconds.

Sam hugged herself and shivered, starting to feel a wave of uneasiness. _Maybe this was a bad idea._ _This place looks like the scene of a horror movie!_ Sam started to shuffle down the hallway, looking for an escape. A few doors down and she found what she was looking for. A dark stairwell led upwards and above it in bright red lettering was a sign that read **"ROOF ACCESS"**. "Bingo," Sam said aloud, entering the pitch blackness of the stairwell. With each step the stairs creaked beneath her and she prayed that they wouldn't give out under her. She held her arms out, reaching for a door that she couldn't see. Finally, when her palms met cool steel, she searched for the bar on the door, and when she did she pushed on it and a ray of gray light shone through.

Letting the door swing behind her, Sam looked around at her surroundings. The roof was nothing special, but it did have a view. She walked over to the railing and looked out at the vast landfill just below. Sam curled her lip up in disgust. "How can somebody live here?" she asked herself aloud.

"'S really not that bad."

Sam spun around to see the blue haired driver from earlier that day. "Oh, it's you," she said in surprise. "You're, uh, the singer for the band, right?"

"Yeah," he said. He put his hand in his pants' pocket and pulled out a crumbled piece of paper. When he held it out to her, Sam recognized it as English money. "Here, this is yours."

Sam's cheeks were aflame. She quickly reached out and took the five pounds and shoved it into her jeans' pocket. "I am _so_ sorry about that. I had no idea."

2D just shrugged it off. "'S awright. You didn't know." He joined her at the railing and looked out. "'Ave you settled in yet?" he asked.

Sam turned around and leaned on the rail. "I don't think I'll be quite settled in yet until I have my belongings. I hope they get here fast."

2D nodded and looked at her. He had never really seen anyone like her. Her tan skin, thick dark hair, and tattoos—tattoos everywhere. "How many you got?" he said, pointing at her arm that was covered.

"Huh?" Sam questioned, looking down at her arm. "Oh! My tattoos…" she said after she realized what he was referring to. "I'm not sure. I stopped counting after twenty," she said with a smile, looking down at her arm and grazing over a colorful sugar skull on her forearm. She looked up at him and smiled. "Do you have any?"

2D shook his head. "No, I don' really like pain," he said.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I guess it's not for everyone."

Sam furrowed her brows and looked out at the trash filled landscape, watching as the setting sun tried to escape from behind the never-ending clouds. She imagined how the sunset looked back in Texas. Clear skies turned orange and pink as the sun set just over Lady Bird Lake. The view from her apartment gave her a clear view of that perfect sunset, and the thought that she wouldn't be able to see that picturesque scene everyday gave her a wistful feeling in her heart.

She looked over at the man next to her. He was also looking out at the view, biting his lower lip. Those two holes on his face where eyes should be, gazing out at the gray sky. Sam wondered how someone could have holes for eyes. She figured it rude to ask. After all, they are practically strangers. So, she decided to ask something neutral. "So, your name is 2D, right? What does that stand for?"

2D perked up, turning his attention to her. "Well, issa funny story, really," he began.

* * *

 **PLEEEEEAAAASEEEE leave a review! I love feedback to let me know how I'm doing!**


	4. Part 1: Chapter 4

**First, I want to say thank you to my first reviewers- courtneyebarrett05 and Gorillazloveryaaasss! Thanks so much for the support!**

 **Second, I have these chapters pre-written up until chapter 12, so I'll try to update once a week until I get all caught up.**

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Chapter 4

Technically Sam couldn't work until she got her visa, but the three months she would have to take to finally receive one was too long to not have a steady income. And she was sure her employers wouldn't just let her live in their huge house for free. Not to mention Murdoc was anxious to get her started. After all, the manager would be working practically side by side with him, the leader of the band.

Sam was given a week to wait for her belongings and get settled in before actually starting her job. She was happy for it, because as soon as her stuff arrived at Kong in a big crate it took her three days to put everything in its proper place. It made her living space slightly more bearable. Sure, the rest of the building was something of a nightmare, but at least she could escape to the comfort of her room to make her feel more at ease.

She was stringing up lights around her ceiling when she heard her bedroom door open with a creak. When she turned around, her olive-skinned neighbor was leaning against the doorframe and scanning the room with a criticizing eye.

"Where are the sombreros and cactus plants?" He genuinely asked.

Sam rolled her eyes at the ignorant statement. "Ignorant asshole," she muttered to herself, curling her top lip up. "What are you doing in here?" She asked him, turning her attention back to the lights, pushing a thumb tack into the drywall to keep them in place.

"Just wanted to get a look-see at where I'll be spending my nights in the near future," he said with a deep chuckle. He admired the bed, smoothing the fluffy white comforter with the palm of his hand. "It's good ya got so many pillows. Don't want ya lying your head on such a hard mattress without a nice cushion when you'll be on your back so much."

Sam strung up the last of the lights and stepped down from the stool she was using. "Actually, I prefer to be on top," she said without hesitation, picking up the stool and placing it back at her desk. She turned to him with a smirk on her face.

"I _do_ like cowgirls," said Murdoc, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "How do ya like it here at Kong Studio so far, hmm?" He sat down on the bed. Somehow this bed had gotten softer than the last time he had felt it when he used that room for late night appointments. He pressed his hand down into the mattress. His handprint stayed there for a few seconds before slowly rising again to normal.

"I've made a few adjustments to make my stay a bit more comfortable. Like putting a memory foam pad on top of my mattress," she said with a wink, noticing how Murdoc's face turned confused when he felt the mattress. "The rest of the building needs some work done too. After I review the band's finances I might call some contractors to fix this place up." She sat next to Murdoc, looking around at her finished bedroom with accomplishment.

Murdoc was taken back. "Ya ain't hiring anyone without my say so, girlie."

Sam raised a challenging eyebrow. "Then can I have your say so?"

Murdoc scratched his chin in contemplation. "Well, I haven't looked at the finances in about…a year…" he trailed off, thinking about the last time he had _actually_ looked at the band's financial records.

Sam groaned. "A _year_ without knowing how much income your making?" she questioned dubiously.

"Well…" Murdoc's voice started to go higher. "Maybe a year and a half…"

Sam palmed her forehead. "I'm going to have to hire an accountant. There's no way you guys can actually live like this. Where's my to-do list?" She started to stand up, but Murdoc grabbed her by the arm, making her fall back onto her butt on the bed.

"Isn't that what we hired _you_ for? Ya _manage_ things!" he exclaimed.

Sam shook her head. "Yeah, I _manage,_ I don't do _accounting;_ there's a big difference! Murdoc, I'm hiring an accountant, that's final. Why are you so against this?"

Murdoc let out a loud groan and fell back onto the fluffy pillows. "The taxes…" he grumbled inaudibly.

Sam leaned back so she could see the man's face. "The what?"

"The taxes! Bloody taxes!" Murdoc shouted.

Sam jumped at his sudden outburst. "What about them?!"

"The bloody taxes haven't been filed in _two years_!"

Sam's eyes went wide with shock. "You've been committing tax evasion for _two fucking years?_ " Her eyes rolled and she let out a pained groan, throwing herself back onto the pillows as well. "Murdoc, you could go to jail."

"Don't you think I bloody well know that?" he said through his teeth, propping himself up on his elbow and looking down at her. "That's why _you_ —" he jabbed his finger in her face. "—Need ta take care of the money." He said in a low voice.

Sam cringed at the thought of all of those numbers. She had to take plenty of math classes back in college, but she despised every one of them. "I guess I need to brush up on my math," she mumbled.

She looked up and found Murdoc looking down at her seductively. "Ya know, this is quite the compromising position we're in, heh-heh."

Sam rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. "You are just asking for a sexual harassment lawsuit, aren't you?"

"Hah, I suppose you got me there, luv," Murdoc sat up on the edge of the bed and pushed himself up to stand. " But if ya change yer mind, ya know where I live," he said, stepping towards the door.

Sam sat up as well. "Don't hold your breath," she said, following him as he stood just in the doorway. The two only stood inches apart, an intensity building in their eyes. "Just drop it, Muds. There's no way you're getting in my pants."

Murdoc, with a sharp-toothed grin, took that as a challenge. "Well, we'll just have to see, won't we?"

Sam shook her head. "No, we _won't_ see because it's not gonna happen! I don't sleep with my employers. Plain and simple," she said. "And besides, even if that wasn't the case. You're not my type," she said with a smug look on her face. Knowing she had bested him, Sam closed the door in his face. She knew it wasn't the best way to get on the "boss's" good side, but then again, she didn't want to know what it took to get on Murdoc's good side.

She leaned against her door, grinning in triumph. But something bothered her. Something tingled in the pit of her stomach. Like butterflies intensely flapping their colorful wings. She wrapped her arms around her own torso, trying to stop that giddy feeling. The feeling she wasn't so unfamiliar with, but it made her uncomfortable nonetheless. They were flirting, and she liked it.

Sam slapped her palm to her forehead. "Why am I like this?" She asked herself. It had only been a week and she was already flirting with the first attractive guy she saw. _Well,_ she mused. _He's not_ that _attractive in the looks department. And he's such a pig! Ugh! So why do I keep flirting with him?_ She banged her head against the solid door, trying to get that mischievous grin of his out of her head.

The next day, Sam was led to the primary office of Kong Studio by none other than the bassist she shared a floor with. The room was big with gray walls and no windows, large tin filing cabinets lined the walls and a large rectangular desk sat in the middle. The room was clean for the most part, except for a few loose papers that scattered the floor and a file that was so fat it was bursting from the top of one of the cabinets. Sam wondered why they had so many.

"Why are there so many filing cabinets? Surely you don't have _that_ many financial records on hand," she said as she bit her bottom lip and prayed she was right. But by the serious look on Murdoc's face, she had a bad feeling that she was, in fact, wrong.

"No, I just collect 'em because I like the way they look with a bunch of blank paper in 'em," he replied, sarcasm dripping in every word.

Sam's jaw dropped in shock. "How much are y'all spending?" She bent over and picked up a pile of loose paper from the floor. They were printed out receipts, and on the total of each one read a number with at least 6 numbers before a decimal point. She gasped as she read aloud the products of the spending. "A marble jacuzzi, a gold shower head, leather reupholstering for _fifty_ cinema chairs...a limited edition flame-throwing Fender bass guitar?! Murdoc, this spending is ludicrous for a band in financial trouble!"

Murdoc perched himself on top of the desk and gave her a scowl. "Look, I don' pay ya ta criticize how I spend my own bloody money. Just balance the check books and see how much money we got left."

San cringed at the thought of going through all the filing cabinets in the room. "Murdoc, getting the band's finances together is going to take weeks if not months. There's too much for just one person to do, especially someone who doesn't have experience working with these kinds of records. You need a professional," she said, shoving the papers into Murdoc's hands.

Murdoc threw the papers over his shoulder and ground his teeth. He wasn't used to taking orders, especially from a woman. "I thought _you_ were the professional here! That's why Russ hired ya!"

Sam groaned in frustration. "I'm not your damn accountant!"She shouted. Sam took a deep breath in and released it, including her rising anger. She pushed her bangs back from her face but they just fell back onto her forehead. "Look, I'll hire an accountant for you. Hell, I'll even pay myself. But I'm gonna need a raise in my salary," she reasoned in a calmer tone.

Murdoc took a second to process the request, and with a sly smirk, he replied, "How about you pay for an accountant, and I'll repay you with an orgasm?"

Sam glared at the bassist. "Orgasms don't pay the bills. And even if they did, I wouldn't be able to pay mine from _you_."

Murdoc chuckled heartily. "Now now, is that any way to talk to the person who employed you?"

Sam sneered. " _You_ didn't hire me, Russell hired me! You didn't even want a manager!"

"What bloody bills do you need to pay anyway? You're living here for free!"

Sam whipped out her cell phone. "Phone bill, my car payment, the electricity bill from my apartment for last month, and I still owe money for breaking my lease. Anymore questions about me or can we get back to your financial troubles here?"

"Yeah, I got one more question," Murdoc said with a terrible twinkle in his eye. "What kinda panties ya wearing?"

If Sam rolled her eyes any more, they would've gotten stuck in the back of her head, but something inside her wanted to humor him. It had been awhile since she had flirted with someone. Usually when she wanted someone, all she had to do was give them a look and they were hooked. But this banter, the back and forth had her wanting more. So, she played along. She smirked, turning away from him. "I don't wear underwear," she said with a smirk as she bent down to pick up a few loose papers tossed on the floor.

When Sam bent over, Murdoc's eyes made a beeline for her rear. It looked plump yet firm, like a peach ready to be picked. The tight burgundy pencil skirt she wore left practically nothing to the imagination. And she was right. No panty lines in sight. He groaned inwardly. _She's gonna be fun to work with…_ he thought deviously to himself.

Sam could feel his eyes on her. Smirking playfully, she straightened back up again, pulling the hem of her skirt down to make sure she wasn't revealing _too_ much. When she turned around to meet his gaze, she found him eyeing her like a wild hyena stalking its prey, a maleficent grin on his smug face. She raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Murdoc hopped off the desk and stepped closer to her, minimizing any space they had between each other. "Why d'ya dress like that? All stuffy? Ya don't seem like the type."

Sam furrowed her brow and looked down at her clothes. She had on a matching blazer and skirt combination she bought at a young professional's store. She had on sheer black tights and sensible black heels for comfort and style. Her thick black hair was tied up in a big bun on top of her head. "What do you mean? I'm trying to be professional here," she said with a frown.

Murdoc eyed her with scrutiny. "I dunno, I just thought you could loosen up a bit, ya know? This is your home, afta' all. Don't want ya being uncomfortable in the place ya live."

Sam tugged on the front button of her blazer. It was true, she didn't feel comfortable in an outfit like that, but she wanted to play the part. Now it just seemed like she was over compensating. "Well what am I supposed to wear?" She asked.

Murdoc waved his hand as if shooing that thought away. "Don't worry 'bout it! Wear whateva' your heart desires, luv. And if your heart desires you to wear a sexy maid's outfit, then you go right ahead and do it."

Sam shook her head at the man. "I'm sure _you_ would enjoy that, but I'm not sure how the others would take it," she said, unbuttoning the one button on her blazer. "I will, however, take this thing off," she slid the burgundy jacket off of her shoulders and tossed it onto the desk. Underneath was a cream colored silk blouse with buttons down the middle. She unbuttoned a couple off the top, feeling like she could breathe again. All of those constricting layers were squeezing her breasts down, and now she felt like she could finally take a deep breath. "That's much better. I actually might take you up on the offer of changing my work wardrobe. I'd much rather work in a t-shirt and jeans," she confessed.

But Murdoc wasn't paying much attention. His eyes were glued to the cleavage she now presented between the buttons on her shirt. "Right, right…" was all he muttered to pretend that he was hearing what she was saying.

Sam wasn't stupid, though. She could tell how transfixed he was with her chest, so she moved past him and sat in the plush chair behind the desk, crossing her legs and getting comfortable for a long day of sitting. "If you don't mind, Murdoc, I have to get to work now. I have a lot to get done today. Don't bother me unless it's something serious, please," she said very mechanically. She was just trying to get him out so she could focus on her job. She had a feeling this was going to happen often.

"Kicking me out already, eh? That's how you show your gratitude towards your boss?" He said, putting his hands on the desk and leaning forward. Looking down on her, he could faintly peek down into her shirt.

Sam picked up a file from the desk and held it to her chest to ward off Murdoc's gaze. "I'm very gracious to be working here, Mr. Niccals." Murdoc cringed at the formality. "But I really must be getting down to business as soon as possible," she gave him a polite smile and set off to reviewing the contents on the file in her hands. She figured if she went into business mode and shut down the flirting he would leave her alone. She was right, because when she looked up he was leaving out the door, with not even a glance backwards.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Working with him was going to be tempting. It would be only a matter of time before she would get so frustrated that she would take Murdoc up on his offer to visit his bedroom. Sam tried to shake the thought out of her mind. _No Sam, you can't sleep with clients!_ She took up some papers and tapped them on the desk to straighten them. _Just give it a couple of days, then you can go out to a pub somewhere and meet someone._ She laid the papers out on the desk in front of her and sighed. _Okay, maybe I'd better go tonight._

By the time the clock struck six o'clock, Sam looked up from the spreadsheets she had made and glanced at the clock. "Ugh," she groaned, stretching her arms above her head, eliciting a nice purr as her stiff joints popped and cracked from staying in one position for so long. She had worked for eight hours straight, only stopping for bathroom and coffee breaks.

She set all of her paperwork aside and stood from her chair, stiff knees rejoicing in a chance to move about. Releasing about ten bobby pins from her bun, her hair rippled like a black wave down her back. She gathered her cell phone, bedroom key, and coffee mug, making her way out of the gray office. She'd have to remember to redecorate if she was going to spend most of her time in there. She shuffled to the door and threw it open, only to be greeted by the young Japanese girl named Noodle.

"Oh, hey Noodle," Sam greeted her, surprised to see her.

"Samantha-san, dinner," Noodle said. Sometimes Sam had a hard time reading Noodle. Sometimes she thought that Noodle liked her, other times she thought maybe Noodle just tolerated everyone there. Then again, Sam had only talked with Noodle a couple of times. Once when Sam first arrived, and the other when they passed each other in the hallway, merely exchanging pleasantries. Sam put it on her mental to-do list to hang out with her more.

"Oh, okay I'll be right down," Sam replied with a smile.

"We're eating together tonight. All of us," Noodle said with a small smile, as if she was trying to hide her joy. She liked it when the band was all together, not working and arguing, but hanging out and conversing. They hadn't had a family dinner in a long time. Probably not since their first album dropped, which was a couple of years ago.

Sam was shocked. "Eating together? What's the occasion?"

Noodle shrugged and smiled. "You," was all she said and started down the hall away from Sam.

Sam raised a brow at the girl as she walked away but didn't ask any further questions and let the conversation be the end of that. Before heading off to the hardly used dining room, Sam went off to her bedroom to drop off her things and change into something more comfortable- a crop top and shorts.

Retreating out of her room, she made her way down to the dining room via the rickety old elevator. On top of everything else on her to-do list, she would have to call an inspector to sign off on the safety of the elevators in the whole building. She let out a sigh of relief when she safely arrived on the second floor in one piece.

Opening the door to the dining room, she realized she'd never seen the room with people in it. She had only been in there once before on a tour given by 2D after they had formally introduced each other.

The room was big— floor-to-ceiling windows gave a nice view of the landfill outside where you could see the sunset just over the piles of rotting garbage, a deep faded purple color covered the walls, and Sam was surprised to find beautiful crown molding that seemed to be untouched by some of the water stains on the ceiling and walls (though she wasn't sure how water stains appeared on the second floor of a twelve story building), and the beautifully carved deep mahogany oval table in the center of the room with matching intricate chairs sitting around it.

Three out of the four band members sat in their seats at the table. Russell practically took up two chairs. He was typing something on his sidekick phone, maybe texting someone important. Noodle was kicked back in her chair across the table, boot-clad feet propped up on the tabletop while an acoustic guitar occupied her lap. She turned the different tuning pegs and plucked specific strings, listening with a skilled ear for that perfect sound. Lastly, 2D sat facing the windows, looking out with an elbow propped on the table and his head leaning against it. His eyes looked droopy and empty as he looked out at the sunset.

Sam was disappointed (much to her disliking) to see that Murdoc was not in attendance. If he were there, she'd probably sit as far away from him as possible, but still making tantalizing glances his way. Seeing as though this was not the case, Sam chose a random chair, sitting in between Russell and 2D. She sat there and sighed, tapping her finger nails on the glossy finished tabletop.

She sat there for a few minutes, just listening to the typing of Russell's big fingers on a small cellphone keyboard and Noodle's guitar strumming. After those few minutes, Sam felt her patience wearing thin and she decided to be the first to say something. "So…why are we here?" She mumbled out loud, not really asking anyone in particular.

Seeing as though 2D was the only one listening, he snapped out of his reverie and turned his attention to his manager. "Noods wanted us all ta have dinna togeva to welcome you. Seems like Muds id't gonna make it though," 2D said, glancing at the only remaining empty chair across from him. "She's gonna be mad at 'im, that's for sure."

Sam glanced at the young guitarist. No wonder they were all just waiting around. Noodle wanted everyone to have dinner together. She felt a tinge of sadness for her. She'd have to have a conversation with Murdoc the next time she saw him.

Sam stood from her chair and cleared her throat. "Well, it seems like we're going to be the only ones attending dinner tonight. So why don't we just—" She was suddenly interrupted when the door swung open and Murdoc stood in the doorway, arms full of pizza boxes.

"Why don't we just what, luv?" Murdoc said, giving Sam a cocky smirk.

Sam crossed her arms in from of her and jutted out her hip. "You're late for dinner. You had us all waiting."

Murdoc scoffed, setting the pizza boxes in the middle of the table. "How can I be late for dinner when I'm the one who brought it, hmm? Everyone else is just simply early."

Sam frowned disapprovingly. "Next time can you try being a little more considerate?"

Murdoc chuckled hardily. _Who does this broad think she is? Thinks she can tell me what to do!_ He thought bemusedly. "The man with the food don' have to be _considerate_. The people waiting for his arrival should be more grateful."

Sam leaned over the table, glaring at Murdoc. Murdoc met her halfway, giving her a challenging look. They both looked each other in the eye, waiting for the other to back down as the others just watched them.

Russell contemplated recording on his phone just in case a fight broke out and he could post it on the internet. 2D sat back anxiously in his chair, hoping and praying they wouldn't lash out on each other, causing him more anxiety. Noodle just watched the pizza boxes that sat between the two on the table, really wishing they would shut up and sit down so they could eat.

Noodle cleared her throat, setting her guitar to the side. "Can you two kill each other later so that we can eat?" She asked calmly.

Sam broke her intense glare and started spreading out the pizza boxes so everyone could reach them. "We're not going to kill each other, we will simply talk it over like two adult coworkers, right Murdoc?" When she looked over, Murdoc was already digging in to his first slice of pizza, not paying a lick of attention to her. " _Murdoc!"_ She bellowed.

Murdoc groaned, setting his pizza down. "For Satan's sake, woman, do ya ever stop talking?"

Sam narrowed her eyes at him. Reaching over, she grabbed a slice of extra greasy pepperoni pizza, and with the precision of a sniper, she chucked the slice right into Murdoc's face. The pizza stuck there for a few seconds, then slowly started to slide off his face until it finally fell in a heap in Murdoc's lap. "Enjoy your dinner," Sam said with a smirk and a look of victory on her face.

Murdoc ground his teeth together in fury. "I think we'll have that talk now, _Sammy_ ," he growled through his teeth.

With a smug look on her face, Sam rose from her chair and followed Murdoc out of the room.

Once they were a safe distance down the hall, Murdoc managed to take hold of Sam's arm tightly and slam her back against the wall. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you, woman?!" He shouted in her face.

Sam just blinked, astonished at Murdoc's forcefulness. His dark, mysterious eyes burning into hers. Her heart raced, and she could feel herself becoming excited. _Ah, for fuck's sake, Samantha, you have problems,_ she thought, chastising herself for finding him attractive at that moment. "What's wrong with _me?_ What the _bloody hell_ is wrong with _you!"_ Sam shouted back just as loud. She jerked her arm away from him, realizing his grip on her wasn't that tight after all. "And don't you _ever_ touch me like that again or I will sue your ass!"

"Sorry, love, I didn't know you don't like it rough, heh-heh," Murdoc teased.

Sam slapped Murdoc on his chest. "What did I say about sexual harassment? That's also grounds for suing!"

"Are you on your period? 'Cause PMS would make a whole 'lotta sense right now," he asked.

Sam grabbed fistfuls of her hair and tugged, wanting to rip it out in fury. But she controlled her rage, running her fingers through her hair instead. She took a deep breath and stepped back. "Since I don't want to get fired for shoving my fist into your face, I'm going to walk away, go upstairs to my room, get dressed, and go out."

"Where the bloody hell are you going?" Demanded Murdoc.

"None of your _bloody_ business!" Sam turned away from him and made her way to the elevator, leaving Murdoc to fume.

Sam tore through her bedroom, ripping clothes from her closet and tossing them on her bed. Angrily, she undressed herself, tossing all of her clothes to the floor in a pile. She slipped into a tight mini dress, some stiletto heels, threw on a leather jacket, and stormed out.

Making her way through the halls, Sam muttered to herself. " _Pinche pendejo_ ," she said under her breath. "I swear to god I have never met a more insufferable man in my life! Who the hell does he think he is? Walking around like he's _una grande pinche cosa._ I should get a lawyer as soon as I get my visa. The next time that bastard lays his hands on me it's lawsuit central, baby."

As soon as her taxi arrived, Sam hopped in and asked to go to the nearest pub. _I just need a few drinks in me_ , she thought, trying to calm herself. _And a cute guy, too._

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 **Thanks for reading! A always, drop a review for me! It's very much appreciated.**


	5. Part 1: Chapter 5

**Ta-da! New chapter! I know I said I would update every week, but I have been super busy! I'm in Ireland right now for school so my mind has been everywhere but this story. But I have found some down time so please enjoy this new chapter!**

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Chapter 5

Sam fumbled with the keys at the front door of Kong Studios. Her vision blurred a little as she tried to stick the key into the lock. "The lock can be a liiiittle tricky," Sam slurred. "Aha!" The lock finally slid in and she turned the key, opening the door. "This lock and key is gonna be kinda like us in a little bit," she said seductively to her male companion that stood next to her.

The guy laughed. "Yeah but instead of sliding in, how about I pound my key in your lock?"

Sam gave him a smirk. "Only if your key fits." She led him down the dark hallways of the building. The pictures on the walls seemed to follow them with their eyes.

"Don't worry," the man said, pulling Sam back and pushing her again the wall. "I'm sure I can make it fit."

Sam raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. "I hope you do," she said breathlessly. "But let's try to make it to the bedroom first."

The two took the lift up, leaning on the railings because they were so drunk they could hardly stand. When the elevator doors slid open, they fumbled down the hallway to Sam's bedroom door.

Curiosity getting the best of her, Sam craned her neck to see Murdoc's door. Light flooded through from the crack underneath, signaling that he was home, and he was awake. Sam cracked a devious grin and started to pull the man towards Murdoc's door.

"Wait, I thought that was your room. Where are we going?" The man asked in a slurred voice.

"I just need to do something real quick," Sam said, determination rushing through her.

She knocked on the black door with a heavy hand. "Murdoc, you _pendejo,_ open up!" She continued to bang loudly until the sound of the door knob twisting stopped her.

Murdoc stood there in the doorway, wearing nothing but a tight pair of white briefs and his inverted cross necklace. He didn't look so happy to have a drunk woman banging at his door and shouting loudly. Usually he was banging drunk women on his bed while they shouted loudly. Now that was pleasant, but this…this was more of a headache.

"For Satan's sake, woman, what d'ya fuckin' want?" Murdoc exclaimed.

Sam, with a smug look on her face, pointed to the man she had taken home with her. "You see this? _This_ is the kinda man _I_ sleep with. Tall, muscled, and young. Unlike you, _grandpa!_ " When she was done she crossed her arms in front of her and waited for a response.

Murdoc raised an eyebrow underneath his black mop of hair. After a few seconds of silence, he bursted into laughter. "D'ya really think I give a shit about who you're bangin', love? Trust me, as long as you're shagging anyone that's not me, _you're_ the one missing out."

Sam let out a frustrated groan, balling her hands into fists. "I would never _shag_ a disgusting pervert like you! So just get it out of your mind!"

"I have a feeling _you're_ the one with it on your mind since you're the one that paid _me_ a visit instead of taking this bloke to your room," said Murdoc, eyeing the young man with suspicious eyes.

The guy was taken aback. "C'mon, babe, why are we even talking to this codger?"

"Shut up, Tom," Sam snapped, then turned her attention back to Murdoc.

"That's not even my name!" The guy said. "Y'know what? I came here for a good time, but if we're not doing that, I'm just gonna leave."

"You really think a woman like me would actually be thinking about banging a guy like you? You're more delusional than I thought!" Sam said, totally ignoring the man she had brought there.

"A broad like you would be lucky to shag me! I'm a rockstar, remember, love?" Murdoc said with an air of confidence.

Sam scoffed. "I've fucked plenty of rockstars, thank you, and all better looking than you."

"The local hillbilly with a guitar doesn't count, love," Murdoc shot back.

Sam gawked at him, then turned back to see her companion's reaction. "Can you believe him, Ted?" She asked, but when she turned she realized there was no one there. She turned her head, looking around to see where he went.

Murdoc burst into laughter seeing her reaction. "Looks like your late night fix just ditched ya, love," he said in between cackles.

Knitting her brows together in frustration, she turned back to Murdoc. "What a fucking _puto_! He couldn't even wait two seconds!"

"Did ya even know the bloke's name?" Asked Murdoc.

Sam paused, pondering for a bit. "I wanna say Trevor," she said, slurring her words quite a bit. She rolled her eyes, stumbling a little, the alcohol in her system throwing off her equilibrium. She tossed Murdoc a glance, noticing that he was staring at her very present cleavage. She couldn't help but notice that his briefs had gotten a little tighter since she's been standing there.

Sam took a deep breath, weighing her options in her current situation. _Okay Sam, you can either walk away from this situation and take this matter into your own hands, or you can lower your standards for one night._ She shrugged internally. She breathed out a sigh, knowing her answer.

"Today's your lucky day, Muds," she said with a seductive smirk. "I've got a problem and it looks like you're the answer to it."

Murdoc couldn't help but chuckle. Of course she would come crawling to him now that her only option ran away from her. But was last resort sex something he would stoop so low for just to bang the girl he's been eying for weeks now? _I've shagged broads for worse reasons,_ he thought. _But I shouldn't give her what she wants so easily._

All his thoughts melted away when he felt Sam's damp breath on his neck and soft hands on his chest. "Come on, Muds. You know you want me," she whispered in his ear, pressing her body firmly against his.

"Sorry, love, but if I gave into every bird that begged me to shag them, there'd be a queue wrapped 'round the entire building five times." Murdoc put his hands on her hips to push her away, but the sharp prick of Sam's teeth nibbling on his earlobe stopped him in his tracks and produced a moan of pleasure.

Sam chuckled at Murdoc's response. "I'm sorry, what were you saying again?" She asked teasingly.

"Heh-heh, get in here, ya cheeky tart." Murdoc grabbed Sam by the wrist and pulled her into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Once inside, Sam's eyes wandered. She had never seen the inside of Murdoc's bedroom. It was dark—the walls were painted a dark, the bed was extravagant with pillars that draped black silk around the perimeter, black silk sheets were rumpled on the bed with matching pillows propped up against the wall, black candles were placed everywhere around the room, some in perfect condition and some melted to the surface they were on, human skull props were also a scattered decoration, and a large pentagram painted in black was illustrated on the wall opposite of the bed. It was all very…Murdoc. "Who does your decorating? Marilyn Manson?" She asked with a chuckle.

"Wot, that manky tosser? That twat's just a poser," said Murdoc. "But enough talking, love, more _action."_

Sam giggled, stumbling into him and wrapping her arms around his neck. "You know, this may be the vodka talking, but you're _really_ sexy right now."

"I think you've finally come to your senses," Murdoc said, pressing his fingers into the middle of her back, finding the clasps to her bra and unsnapping them.

Sam allowed Murdoc to undress her as her lips went to work on his neck, sucking and nipping at every inch of the green-hued flesh. When their lips finally met, Sam's dress, along with her bra, fell in a puddle at her feet.

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 **This chapter might be a little risque for a T rating, but, hey, I did what I could. This story used to be M so I tried to do enough editing as possible. Anyway, please leave a review! You would be doing me a great favor and making me a very happy writer!**


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